


Just Like Honey

by tennisuhs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Kinda, Kissing, M/M, Science Fiction, a lot of car talk, but also a lot of resolved tension, inspired by take off yukhei and hyuck's superhuman teasers, kinda too much world building but you get the drill, mentions of other members - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 09:58:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18870913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tennisuhs/pseuds/tennisuhs
Summary: The world has ceased to exist. At least in the way we know it. Silence reigns now, no more havoc or chaos. Or at least in the good side of life. For Donghyuck and Yukhei, life was loud.They loved it that way.





	Just Like Honey

“Aren’t you too young to be a mechanic?”

Donghyuck turned around, dropping the file holder onto his desk. The slam echoed through the high walls and higher ceiling. None of them flinched.

The world had become silent. Ever since machinery operated on air, on sliding but never whooshing, the smallest sound could make the strongest man queasy. That was unless you lived in the edges of society. In the corner of people’s vision, disappearing by the time they turn to check. 

Sound.

Metal against metal. Tools twisting, clicking, sawing, punching, hammerning. Engines revving up and wheels scratching the ground. Donghyuck’s life was loud, terrifying, always running and hiding. But still, it wasn’t silent.

A life without sound would have make Donghyuk positively go insane. 

“If you don’t like my services, you are free to leave.” the black haired nodded at the door.

Jinggling when he chuckled softly, the biker’s chains glimmered against the led lights, disgustingly artificial and emanating a soft buzz. 

Similar to what Donghyuck felt every time the client came back. It prickled under his skin, no matter how much he tried to scratch it off and away, slapping his bare flesh, the little bees had already settled inside his veins, pumping from the hive that was his heart. 

Donghyuck knew his name. Nickname, rather. He knew what the client was up to and why he always turned up with an exhausted bike to his garage. Sighing at the sight of the vehicle every time the doors would slide open for them, Donghyuck could trace its parts like the back of his hand. The metal suspension bars, with chinese characters engraved in them; the headlights that looked like a feral animal, if one squinted.

The windscreen, a thick material with equal parts glass, plastic and hyerotamin, what all the windows and all the doors were made of now. A resistant material that not only scaled buildings from pollution, but also was incredibly resistant.

Donghyuck’s hands trached on the little scratches. The only way one could as much as blemish the material was with fire. The mechanic didn’t comment on it. Instead he let his fingers linger on the sides, perfectly rounded, never cutting. Safe. The pilot’s last safe net. 

When his fingers met on top of the wind shield, his eyes looked further up. To the boy still sitting on the bike. He looked up from the chains.

Always up.

Because Xuxi was inhumanly tall, his eyes incredibly big, and his fringe brushing past his eyebrows. Donghyuck sometimes wondered how bad must the boy’s life had to be to end up like this. Scar on his forehead, lip split open more times than Donghyuck would find reasonable. A helmet under his arm, and the title of being the best racer on the easter sector under his belt.

For all he knew, Xuxi was barely a year older. 

“Never said that, plump.” Xuxi said softly, his chin coming to rest where Donghyuck’s hands had stop on the windshield. “No one knows me and my angel like you do.”

Donghyuck’s eyes went wide for a fraction of a second. Then he hummed and withdrew his hands, turning around towards his tool box.

Oh, yeah, that’s the other thing. 

Donghyuck was ridiculously attracted to Xuxi.

To the boy with no real name and too many chains around his neck to count. The boy with worn out gloves but with a new leather jacket everytime. With studs on his shoes and black turtlenecks. With brownish hair and a smile so big, so bright, that made Donghyuck believe that the sun wasn’t in the middle of the solar system anymore. Not with Xuxi around.

“Good, because apparently my age isn’t a problem when you call me bullshit names.” 

Donghyuck crouched once more after coming closer to the bike again. This time tilted, the entire vehicle leaning on the easel. 

“But you seem to like them, pumpkin spice latte of my dreams.”

Donghyuck gagged. Well, pretended to, and just to make it more realistic he turned away, because he was told better than to throw up on people, even less on bikes. And also maybe, perhaps, he didn’t want to risk it and let Xuxi see his blush.

Not that he was blushing. 

Focusing once again, Donghyuck checked the pressure of the tires as well as the wheel rims. His hands marveled through the bodywork, intricate yet sharp. A mixture of softness and roundness, yet edges that seem to imitate the pilot himself. The motorcycle hugging the boy perfectly. Well, it had been made for Xuxi specially.

Taeil was just a damn master at bikes. Donghyuck had enough proof of that.

He checked the seat next, noticing the coarseness of the leather under his fingertips. Tilting his head, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, turning to the owner. Who was staring, but not at the bike. Not anymore. Visibly shaking himself out of some sort of daze. 

Donghyuck had to remind himself to keep cool. Even if the air changed. That almost familiar shift, from air to honey. Oxygen so thick, he could almost cut it with his saw. 

“What did I tell you about riding with your belt chains?” Donghyuck reprimanded, crossing his arms. The goal was to appear serious and defiant, but his voice held no venom to it, his expression clearly soft.

Honey was dripping down his lungs, the hive on overwork to produce it in his heart. He felt like suffocating yet lightheaded.

“I-” the taller tried to defend himself. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“Come here.” Donghyuck said between clenched teeth, his hand grabbing the more grease than fabric, cloth he always had hanging from his belt. 

Using that as a weapon, Donghyuck chased Xuxi around for a bit, just two steps until the other was too far away to reach. 

His life wasn’t silent. Their life wasn’t. They couldn’t  _ afford _ silence.

And Donghyuck was more than glad, since a life without hearing Xuxi’s voice would be like a wasteland with no water. 

The echo came back to them, and the shorter could also hear his high pitched giggle in the mixture. Having traveled through the garage, bouncing on the walls and plummeting from the ceiling, were his voice mixed with Xuxi. And he hated how much he liked the harmonization of the two.

“Let’s take this angel to the engine scan room. You know, just in case.” Donghyuck proposed and, without checking the owner’s response, he climbed onto it.

Normally, he would just put the vehicle in dead mode and peddle his way towards the scan room with his feet. However, and in case it wasn’t abundantly clear: Yukhei was devastatingly tall, and Donghyuck had to stand on his tippy toes if he wanted to peddle. So, the picture in front of Yukhei was more than hilarious, but props to the boy for keeping his laughter contained like a champ. Which is a lot coming from him. 

“Looking good, sweet cheeks.” He let out after his biggest effort to keep calm. Scoffs pouring out his shut lips. 

“Do I have to remind you I know how to use a laser saw?” He reminded the boy as he tried to dismount the vehicle.

The motorbike shifted then. The ease got kicked aside, and a strong back shoved Donghyuck to the end of the seat. Knowing damn well, that bike was not meant to fit two people, the younger was left holding his weight on the taller, having no more room in the narrow end of the seat.

He hated it.

Warmth wherever his arms rested on his waist, the softness of the fabric against his coarse hands, as if cleansing his fresh cuts from helping Taeil tame a piece of scrap metal. He hated how he could almost feel the other’s heart beat echoing in his ribcage, making Donghyuck want to force his own organ to imitate said rhythm. Hated how it felt to be this close to Xuxi. Hated to himself for hating the thought of ever parting. 

Xuxi revved the engine.

The world had never been this loud.

It was all over and around and up and down and over and under and beyond. Donghyuck pressed closer, Yukhei let out a breath from his nose. Even deaf, he could hear the confidence in that small breath, the security, the triumph. Donghyuck melted into that small second, insignificant in the bigger scheme of things.

He let himself buzz with the engine, with the breathing against his chest, and the smile Yukhei threw him when he turned to check on him over his shoulder. 

That fucking smile.

Donghyuck had nightmares about it. Nightmares where he was pinning Yukhei against the wall, where their hands met, where the world was so loud Donghyuck wanted to shout in glee.

Yukhei started moving then, Donghyuck helping him since peddling with two people on a bike wasn’t as ideal as it sounded, even if the engine was on and the wheels unstuck. His hands felt dead on top of Yukhei’s thighs, completely disregarded as his legs pushed forward.

He wasn’t touching the taller, that couldn’t count. That’s not how it happened in those dreams, that’s not what Donghyuck wanted.

Because he wanted.

Hated how much he wanted.

It was so unprofessional to desire a client the way he desired Xuxi. That much he knew. He had to treat the taller like a patient: know what he was lacking, what was his illness and also be able to procure a remedy. He had to know Xuxi’s racing habits, what he expected of his bike. He had to know him as a champion.

Not as anything else.

Sometimes he wandered.

“Make a left.” 

Sometimes he wandered with his eyes closed and brain awake. 

His palms sat flat on Yukhei’s thighs just as the bike turned towards the scan room, the door sliding open. 

Xuxi wore gloves, he told the mechanic, because the burn of the handles in his hands was too much to handle, no matter what material or fabric was to be used to cover them. He wanted to keep his hands soft and untainted.

Why?  Donghyuck couldn’t even phantom. 

But when the taller put his hand on Donghyuck’s, embracing him in warmth that smelled like bloom, he started to understand.

“I think this is your stop.” Xuxi said, yet not attempting to move further.

“And yours too.” Donghyuck said in an exhale.

He was the one who stirred in order to jump off. Whatever had happened in the minute and a half that took them to reach the room was an isolated incident. Because Donghyuck wondered, and dreamt and tasted the honey in the back of his throat, but he wasn’t an idiot. 

He wasn’t a fool.

Specially for Xuxi.

But the taller had other plans.

His hands squeezed once more. 

Xuxi lowered his head, and when Donghyuck tilted to check on him, he could see the other licking his lip, as if he was trying to prepare his mouth for the words that never shone. Tied them up in a knot and swallowed them down.

“Xuxi?”

The boy looked up again, shaking his head quickly as if to forget. Start over. “My name’s Yukhei.”

Donghyuck repeated it silently. Then a whisper. Then loud. “Yukhei.” against the boy’s ear.

Explosion engines require one tiny spark. That’s all. Well, okay, clearly not all. They are filled with fuel which gets ignited by a spark that starts up the entire engine.

They didn’t do those anymore. There was no more fuel to use. 

However, Donghyuck could feel the spark. Felt it in the way Yukhei’s hand stilled in his at the sound of his name. His real name. That tiny spark that set up a tiny explosion. Which, for Donghyuck felt like a whole natural disaster. The fuel deep in his guts was a flame. Maybe it had never been honey, if he was to stop and think about it.

Which he wouldn’t.

There was no time for thinking, no available cells to do so, when Yukhei kicked the easel and jumped of the bike, dragging Donghyuck by the hold of his hand. Now both hands. Pushing him flesh against his own chest. Heaving. Both of them.

Donghyuck looked up, always up, the weight of the chains comfortable against his own chest, right where his heart was pumping, sensitive and anticipating.

The bees turned into yelling, and there was so much sound. Everything was screaming, singing, humming. Everything but the bike and the scan, a purple light under its wheels as the vehicle turned on the platform. 

Donghyuck had seen the process so many times before, he could trace it with his eyes closed.

However, he’d never seen Yukhei like this: lips parted, eyes hooded, hands on his and he wanted to touch him. 

Taeil had scolded him when he started helping in the garage, because his curious hands have always gotten the best of him. Fingerst first, eyes second.

So when the very coarse fingertips, cut so many times, healed just as many, reached Yukhei’s cheeks, he let out a sigh. Big fingers curled around his wrist, and if he had been weak willed, Donghyuck would have fainted at the intense stare from Yukhei. But there wasn’t discomfort in it, there was just a darkness so filled with want, curiosity and some things Donghyuck might never know the word for. And it made him brave. Kind of stronger too.

His thumbs found his cheekbones. The light in the room lidded. 

The scan was starting, it would take about ten minutes. 

Lower lip coated Donghyuck’s finger on its way down to his chin. Yukhei dropped his gaze, his arms with it, finding rest on Donghyuck’s waist. 

Explosion engines require a spark. However, not just one.

But continuously.

And Donghyuck could feel each and every single one of them against his lips, over an over again every time Yukhei leaned down to peck them. Soft, and sweet, so uncharacteristic of the taller, all wit and no seriousness. This was so unlike him, so unreal, that made Donghyuck open his mouth. Maybe to say something, maybe to ask what else was fake about Yukhei.

But then he deepened their kiss.

A sudden thought took over Donghyuck. He was the only one who knew Yukhei. Like this. Desperate yet calm, at peace and frantic. Hands clutching onto his baggy clothing, pushing closer. He was the only one to know him breathless, defeated by Donghyuck’s tongue on his. 

When they parted, Donghyuck was panting, his eyes on the chains. Some wider, the other’s smaller. Pendants. He toyed with them, with the small pendants around Yukhei’s neck, with the face of a virgin, a coin, a key. Letting them bump against his knuckles, right hand maped the space between Yukhei’s chest and neck, wrapping around his throat. No pressure.

Yukhei leaned down again. And it was easy. Once the engine starts, everything’s smooth.

It was easy to meet him, to let him trap his lips on Donghyuck’s. Let them linger, let them be loud and obnoxious. 

“You’ll have to tell me about these, one day.” Donghyuck said between kisses.

“I’ll tell you everything.” Yukhei promised, aiming south, past Donghyuck’s jaw. 

When Donghyuck bared his neck, teeth scraped it as he added. “Everything, I promise.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hi!!! this was so bad and barely beta'd so expect some editing here and there.  
> regardless, i hope you liked this
> 
> hmu on twitter @moonsdior
> 
> or on curiouscat https://curiouscat.me/youngghos


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